


Go Home, Michael

by Adillard



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Alex's Song, Brief Forlex, Canon Compliant, M/M, Making Up, Malex, Mentions of Echo - Freeform, Mentions of Maria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24977047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adillard/pseuds/Adillard
Summary: Michael knows he needs to make his way back to Alex. Everyone keeps talking about the song and the lyrics and Michael can't seem to escape it...not that he really wants to.OR5 times Michael is faced with Alex's song...and 1 time it's his doing
Relationships: Isabel Evans & Michael Guerin, Max Evans & Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin & Liz Ortecho, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 14
Kudos: 206





	Go Home, Michael

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't had a chance to run through and edit this, so please excuse any mistakes! Also, please let me know if I should add any tags! I'm still getting used to this whole Fanfiction thing :)
> 
> This is cannon compliant EXCEPT I took the liberty of just ignoring the whole "Mr. Jones" thing. So there is no Max 2.0 in this story
> 
> Enjoy!




“It’s not our time, right now,” he told Isobel, the sound of Alex’s voice all around him in this bar.

“But it will be.”

“I think so.”

And so he left. He could still hear Alex’s voice as he made his way to his truck. He could hear Alex singing about his father’s shrapnel and healing hands. It was really fucking overwhelming. And he wanted to sit and bask in it, to commit every word to memory and feel them down to his fucking soul. But, honestly, he just couldn’t deal right now. It was too much. Especially seeing Forrest there.

His instinct was to feel bad for himself, to jump to the conclusion that Alex was letting him go and moving on with Forrest. But that wasn’t right. He knew it in his damn bones that Alex was _not_ letting him go. And Alex deserved to have some time, just like he’d given Michael with Maria. He and Maria had broken up literally 2 days ago. It wasn’t fair to any of them if he jumped back into things with Alex. Not yet, anyways.

So, he climbed into his truck and drove home. Well, maybe not _home_ home, like Alex was singing about. But to the Airstream. For now.




“Iz?” he called out, as he let himself into her front door. “You ready?”

“Just a minute!” he heard her call from a different room.

He followed the voice to her master bathroom, where she was finishing her makeup. He sat down against the bath tub behind her while she stood at the sink, looking at herself in the mirror while she put on her lipstick. A familiar tune and voice was playing through the speaker of her phone. After a moment of confusion, his face turned annoyed and he lifted an eyebrow at her.

“Seriously?”

“What?” she asked, feigning innocence. “I recorded it at the last Open Mic Night! It’s just so gorgeous, Michael, you have to give it a chance!”

He shook his head. _‘Tear down my defenses I can build your heart a home’_

“It’s not about giving it a chance, Isobel!” he told her, incredulously.

“Then what _is_ it about, Michael? He loves you!”

‘ _be_ _neath my skin. But I’ve begun to heal in all the places your hands have been.’_

_Fuck_ there was that line again. Damn it. He ran a hand over his face and then took a deep breath, meeting Isobel’s gaze in the mirror.

“Will you help me with something?” he asked. And her worried expression turned smug.




“Just come to the bar and pick me up, dickhead!” Max had practically growled over the phone earlier.

So after a few snarky remarks and accepting Max’s annoyed apology, Michael made his way to the Wild Pony to pick up his miserable brother from work. All he’d wanted was to have a night to hang out with Max- to feed him pizza and beer and make sure that his weakened heart was still at least _physically_ working, despite it being _figuratively_ broken in Liz’s absence. Yes, it was Max’s fault he wasn’t with her right now, but Michael knew a thing or two about pushing away your soulmate and then being left alone in Roswell, heartbroken and spiraling.

**‘Out front** ’ he texted to Max when he pulled up.

‘ **Finishing up come in & I’ll get you a beer’ **

Michael groaned, loudly, into the emptiness of his truck. He had made it a point to not go into the Pony since his breakup with Maria. He just didn’t really know what to say to her, exactly. Especially because after he’d had some time to think about it, she was totally right. He loved her and it was a nice relationship and yet Alex would always be there, in the background, owning most (if not all) of his heart. It was better this way. He needed to work his way back to Alex. And the first step of that had to be stepping away from Maria. As usual, she’d known that before him and he was ultimately thankful for that, but he still wasn’t sure how to act around the Pony- or if he was even welcome.

He parked the truck and made his way inside. He could hear the telltale signs of live music before he even got to the door. Goosebumps raised on his arms as he let Alex’s voice surround him, again. He made his way to the bar and took off his hat, meeting Max’s eye. Max finished pouring a drink and handing it to a blonde down the bar from him, and then made his way to Michael.

“Asshole,” he grumbled to Max.

Max’s lip quirked up in an almost-smile. “Isobel made me do it.”

Michael shook his head and took a deep breath. He turned in his seat and saw that Alex was playing the guitar while he sang, this time. And Forrest, the blue haired motherfucker, was playing the keyboard. The jealous anger that took hold of Michael’s insides and squeezed was too much and Michael grabbed his hat off the bar and all but ran back out to his truck.

-

“He’s moved on, Michael. That song was like his closure to the chapter of you. Romantic and poetic, really, on the scale of saying goodbye to an ex and moving on,” Max told him, taking another large swig of whiskey and leaning back in his chair next to the fire, looking up blindly at the stars while the flames of the fire between them licked at his boots.

“Fuck you, Max.”

“Just saying,” he drunkenly sing-songed.

And Michael _knew_ that Max was just drunk, he _knew_ that Max heartbroken and stuck in a bad headspace, he _knew_ that Max was just being a negative asshole who just couldn’t let anyone else be happy right now, but like _what the actual fuck?!_

He walked away and let Max fall asleep like that, drunk and spread out on an uncomfortable lawn chair in front of the fire pit.




“I’m sorry, Michael, I didn’t know that the _Long_ kid was going to be performing it with him! I mean obviously, I didn’t know! I just wanted you to be able to hear the song in person again! I shouldn’t have put it past Max to make it all sad,” Isobel was saying over the phone.

Michael shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him. “It’s fine, Isobel. He’s spiraling. I get it.”

“I mean it’s his own-“

“Look, I’ve got another call coming in. I’ll see you on Friday morning for breakfast?” he interrupted her, glancing at his phone to see who the incoming call was from. Liz.

“I’ll get our booth,” she assured him and then hung up without saying goodbye. It was a weird thing that she always did. She literally never said goodbye before hanging up. He’d gotten used to it by now, not that they spoke on the phone very often.

He looked back at his phone and answered the incoming call from Liz. “Hey, Ortecho. How’s the ocean? And the lab? Probably didn’t have to steal any equipment from the hospital, am I right?”

He heard a very small huff of a laugh on the other end. “No, not here. It is beautiful, Michael, I can’t even describe it. I have literally everything I could dream of wanting in this lab, it’s incredible. And the ocean is fine. The beach is fine. It’s all just…fine, really.”

“That’s not really the Liz Ortecho science nerd that I’m used to. Everything okay over there?” he asked.

“Michael,” she all but whispered, and he was struck with the realization of how much he actually _missed_ her. Actually, now that he thought about it he was pretty sure she was his best friend. “How is he?”

Michael swallowed and took a deep breath. “He’s…uh…I mean what do you want me to say, Liz? He’s a mess. He misses you. He knows it’s his fault, but he’s somehow convinced himself that everything he did was for a reason.”

“Will you just...will you remind me why I’m doing this? Remind me why I love this work?”

“Liz. Kyle told Isobel about Steph. _You_ did that. Your work. Your brain. You’re going to save the world, Ortecho. Don’t let my brother dampen that for you. He’ll come around.”

There was a sniffle on the other line and he could picture her crying. “Thank you,” she whispered after a moment.

They were silent for a moment while he let her collect herself.

“So, what’s this I hear about Alex writing a song for you?” she asked, changing the subject, and he knew it was her way of evening the tables- if she had to ‘feel feelings’ she was making it so that he did, too.

“Yeah, and who did you hear that from?”

“Isobel. And Maria, actually. She said you’ve been staying away from the Pony. She doesn’t need that, Michael. They said that the song is, like, a way of Alex saying he’s going to fight for you? How are you handling that?”

If it was anyone else asking this question, he would evade it. But, he was ready to talk to someone about it and Liz was the least likely to go weird or mushy on him.

“Mostly, I feel like I don’t deserve it. I mean he’s been… _fighting_ …for me for months and I’ve just been pushing him away and trying to make things work with Maria,” _often in front of Alex’s face like a complete prick_. “But, then, he’s still there, not really letting me push him too far. I don’t know why.”

“He loves you, Michael.”

“Yeah. Well, I’ve been working on something, so….” He stopped himself from saying anything further. “And Max loves you, you know.”

“Yeah.”




Alex and Forrest hadn’t seen him and Isobel when they’d come into the diner. They had grabbed a table nearby Michael and Isobel’s booth and everything had seemed to be lighthearted between them, but when it took a turn for the more serious, Isobel insisted they try to listen in. Michael had disagreed, not wanting to intrude on their privacy, but the diner was fairly empty and it was hard not to hear. He just sipped on his coffee and ate his Christmas style breakfast burrito and did his best not to actively listen.

“I know you said it was a long time ago, Alex, but the last thing in the damn song is, _‘you were the best of me, you are the best of me_ ’. I just- look I know we said we were just going to have fun, but I think it’s pretty clear that this song was written for someone who you really want to come back to you,” Forrest said.

“It’s not like that. You’re right, it’s not just a long time ago. It started that way, but it was recent, too. But he doesn’t feel the same, anymore. And that’s okay! Seriously, it took me a long time to be okay with that, but I am!” and he sounded okay with it, really. Which did really sad things to Michael’s heart.

“How could any man _not_ want you, Alex? I don’t buy it.”

“Look- I represent a lot of terrible things in his life. My family has done nothing but bring his family pain and sadness. When we were 17, my dad- I mean…Just, please, I’m having fun with you. It’s honestly nice spending time with someone who doesn’t have to drown in sadness just because of my presence. I mean, I get it- if you want to break things off, that’s okay, I know that I have a shit ton of baggage and if airlines have weight limits, relationships should, too, but at least just know that the chances of the man in the song coming back to me are slim to none. I just…I want him to be happy. And I know that means he can’t be with me. So, I’m trying to figure out how to be happy, too.”

“I get it, Alex, I really do. I think you’re stuck in a guilt spiral, but that’s a little typical for you. You take on more than you should. But, I’m here. Let’s just keep it light and honest. We can keep having fun until he comes home. _When_ \- and I’m saying when because you are too fucking perfect for him to _not_ come home to you- he comes home, just let me know and I’ll duck out. Cards on the table, continuing forward with the full knowledge that this is just fun.” And, fuck, it was hard to hate Forrest when he was just so -reasonable-.

“Oh my God, Michael, put this beautiful war hero out of his misery, already! What the hell is taking you so long?” Isobel scolded, jabbing her fork at a piece of fruit.

Michael was busy trying to get his brain to turn back on. His stomach had dropped and he was stuck in a loop of all the ways he’d fucked up with Alex. There were too many. Did the song really end in ‘you are the best of me’? Like, present tense?

“I think I’m ready for you to play me the song, Iz.”

+1

Alex was unlocking his own front door when Michael got to his house. He was in jeans and his damn sexy black leather jacket and he just turned to look at Michael questioningly at first. He finished unlocking the door, but instead of going inside, he waited for Michael to get out of his truck and walk over.

“Guerin?” he asked when Michael was close enough.

“Rumor around town is that you wrote a song about me,” Michael said, his hands in his pockets and his head tilting to the side, his hat staying firmly in place. “People have a lot of _opinions_ about it.”

Alex’s lips quirked up into a smile. “Yeah? And what are those?”

Michael shrugged and looked down at the ground, kicking his boots a little in the dirt. “Depends who you ask. Max thinks it is a poetically romantic way of you saying goodbye to me. Liz said Maria’s take is more of you saying you’re going to fight for me. Isobel says you love me,” he said the last part more quietly, chancing a glance back up at Alex’s face.

Alex’s face was painfully neutral, but his eyes were watery. When his eyes met Michael’s, Michael could see the pain there. But also the hope. “And what’s yours?”

Michael’s tongue darted out to touch his lip and he slowly removed his hat from his head, holding it between them like a shield. He could feel that his eyes were wet, too, but he held Alex’s gaze stubbornly, needing the Airman to hear his words. “Well, my opinion is that you wrote a song about us. And it’s fucking perfect. Just like you.”

Alex blinked a few times, looking off to the side and wiping at some of the tears that had fallen from his eyes. “Yeah, I just wanted- I just need you to know how sorry I am that my famil-“

“Alex, you are my family.”

Alex swallowed and Michael was momentarily mesmerized by the tightening of his jaw and the movement of his throat. “Michael, I-“

“I love you.” He said it with conviction. He said it so that it was no longer questionable to Alex. It was no longer negotiable. It was not conditional. It just was. “And I fucked up. And I put a lot of blame and a lot of weight on your shoulders, but, Alex, you are _good_. You are so good, and I don’t deserve you. You have put everything on the line for me and my family this year and I didn’t deserve any of it.”

Alex’s face was soft as he shook his head and started to close the distance. “Yes you _do_ , Michael. You deserve _everything_. You said before that you want to be good for someone, and you need to know that you are.”

“I want to be good for _you_.”

“You _are_.”

There was a long silence while they both just stood there, looking at one another.

“I’ve been practicing something, with Isobel. I was hoping maybe I could, uh, try it? It might leave a mark,” Michael said, raising his now perfectly uninjured -and uncovered- hand a little.

Alex’s eyebrows raised in surprise for a moment. “The handprint?”

Michael nodded, sheepishly, ready for Alex to tell him ‘no,’ but Alex nodded instead. “Yeah,” he told Michael, “Okay.”

So Michael closed the distance between them and gingerly lifted Alex’s shirt, sliding his hand to just below Alex’s heart. He concentrated on what he and Isobel had been practicing. And all at once he felt warm. He thought of the first time he saw Alex, he thought of the day Alex offered the shed and the night Alex had tried to kiss him. He thought of their first kiss at the UFO Emporium and of the first night Alex had come home on leave and they had locked themselves in the Airstream for 3 solid days. He thought of the night of the reunion and the morning they had woken up together before Isobel had gotten there. He thought of Caulfield and the feeling of his mother recognizing something in Alex and begging Michael to take Alex and run. He pushed memory after memory into the connection and when he pulled away and opened his eyes, he realized that both he and Alex were crying. Alex looked at him like he could finally see that he was Michael’s whole world. And Michael was prepared to make sure Alex never lost that feeling ever again.

“I’m sorry I was such an idiot. But I’m ready to come home, now. If that’s okay. And if you need further clarification for some reason, _you’re_ my home, Alex. I think you have been for a long time.”

Alex let out a laugh through his tears, bringing his hands up to either side of Michael’s face and resting their foreheads together. He nodded, his eyes closed and his face calm. “I’m glad you’re home.”


End file.
